


Heavenly Peace

by TARDISTraveller42



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Adventure, Angst, Coal Hill School, Drama, Fluff, Gen, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Mystery, Suspense, TARDIS - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2019-02-20
Packaged: 2019-09-15 18:20:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16938300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TARDISTraveller42/pseuds/TARDISTraveller42
Summary: Taking a break from the busy holiday season, the Doctor and Clara visit the most peaceful planet in the galaxy. But there is a price to peace. A price that may prove perilous.





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

Clara would’ve liked to say that she was so busy with work and family and holiday planning that dreams of the TARDIS didn’t have time to surface. She would like to say that she was focused on her personal life, and that Timelords barely crossed her mind. It would’ve been her proudest statement: that she could get on with her life with as much enjoyment as ever without dashing about the cosmos.

Unfortunately, it would be a lie. 

In her defense, it wasn’t because she was helpless without the Doctor. It wasn’t because she was some forlorn girl desperate to be taken away from her terribly boring life that she kept one ear listening out for the TARDIS. No, she had a greater reason for her head to be in the stars these days. A rather understandable one, if she said so herself. 

She hadn’t seen her best friend since before term started. And now, as the snow fell outside her classroom window, it was nearly Christmas holiday. 

The first month, she’d been alright. She figured he was busy. Maybe he was even trying to help her; give her some space as the school term started. Let her get her bearings around new classes and a new schedule.

The second month, she’d been a little cross. The students were as frustrating as ever and their first essays had been an absolute bear to grade without the help of the TARDIS’ time travelling abilities. 

It wasn’t until the third month that she’d started getting worried.

And now, almost four months in, she was properly scared. 

Every rustle of leaves or change in the wind had her head whipping around to look for the blue box. It was a miracle she hadn’t given herself whiplash yet. Every now and then she’d pause in her lesson, as the caretaker walked by with his brush and bin of water. But it was never him. Just the old caretaker, doing his normal caretaker thing.

What if something had happened to him? Would Kate tell her, or would she be left in the dark, just wondering? Anything was possible, with him. That’s why he was so amazing, yeah. But it’s also what made it so difficult to be his friend sometimes.

“Miss?”

Right. She’d been caught staring out the window again. By her own student, too.

“Ryan! Yes, can you tell us what happened in chapter twelve please?”

Bless his heart, Ryan gave a perfect recollection of the reading. Too bad Clara could barely focus. It might’ve been the wind (it was probably the wind), but she swore she’d heard that old sound. That beautiful, messy, groaning sound that carried hope and wonder and…

“Pumpkin spice latte?”

Her eyes absolutely inflated. He was here! His face was in front of her face. Icy blue eyes staring into brown. Standing in the doorway of her classroom, with those same scuffed boots; that same red-lined jacket. Hair a bit thicker and curlier than when she’d last seen him. But it was him! It was actually, truly him.

Clara suddenly remembered where she was and spun around.

“I’ll just be a tick,” she said to her class of giggling teenagers. “Eh, why don’t you discuss with a partner what your favorite passages have been and why?”

Clara dragged the Doctor into the hallway by his lapels, slamming the door shut behind them. She didn’t know if she was angry or relieved, but she was feeling a lot of something.

“I know, I’m two months late,” he said, holding out a cup of coffee. “But I did bring a pumpkin spice latte. Just in time for Halloween. Your favorite!”

Clara crossed her arms and stared at him, eyebrows raised. His coffee-wielding arm faltered.

“It’s not Halloween, is it?”

She bit her bottom lip.

“Happy...Thanksgiving? Do you do that here? I always get it mixed--”

“Doctor.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose; took in a deep breath. 

“It’s December. Late December. Doctor, where have you been?”

“Late December? No, that can’t be right. You must have looked at the wrong calendar.”

She could’ve smacked him. But she only sighed, relaxing the tension that had built up in her shoulders.

“I was starting to worry. I haven’t seen you in months. No phone call, no message, nothing.”

“I’m...sorry. I forgot to do some repairs on the TARDIS; must’ve caused a temporal shift while I was driving her. I really did mean to come back sooner.”

Watching him, with his eyes darting to the floor and his hands stuck around two cups of coffee, it was impossible to stay angry with him. Clara let herself smile, and brought her arms around his neck.

“I’m just glad you’re alright, daft old man. It’s been a long four months.”

Unable, and probably unwilling, to hug her back, he merely stood hunched over with his head on her shoulder.

“You don’t need to worry about me, Clara Oswald. That’s my job.”

She released him from her grasp and took one of the coffees from him.

“So. Where are we going today?”

. . . . . . . .

“Linistri 5! The most peaceful planet I know.”

He announced this as he danced along the Console, flipping switches and turning dials as he went. He probably didn’t even know what buttons he was hitting. The show off.

“That’s what you always say,” Clara replied with a coy smile, just before taking her last sip of coffee.

The Doctor looked offended for a second, but shut his mouth before responding.

“I figured,” he said a moment later. “You’d need a holiday. After you’ve been trapped in that school for months without a proper day out.”

“I’ve had days out!” She sounded more defensive than she wanted to, and slammed down her empty coffee cup so hard the TARDIS made noises in disgruntlement. “I went to Cambridge with a few of my mates just a few weeks ago.”

“Teachers visiting a school on their day off...now I have heard everything.”

“Oi!” She smacked his arm, but they were both laughing. “Come on, let’s go see how peaceful this planet really is.”

They both started for the door, the Doctor getting there first to open it for her.

“I’ll have you know, I really looked into this one. Did environmental checks and everything. The whole place is built on the concept of tranquility.”

He opened the door and guided her outside with a sweeping arm. 

Clara had to admit, he’d done an uncharacteristically good job steering. Trees surrounded them; a forest, but not one from frightening fairy tales. These woods were peaceful. Birds sang high above their heads. Water rumbled down a creek, without any sweets wrappers or empty beer bottles to detract from the ambience. 

As they walked, Clara unconsciously brushed her fingers against the Doctor’s hand. They’d gotten so much closer over the past year or so; he allowed so much more contact now. It was sort of sweet, how much growth she’d witnessed in him. As they passed over a particularly rocky hill, he even took her hand in his.

“Careful,” he warned. 

“You’re usually the accident-prone one.”

He huffed, rolling his eyes, but didn’t argue either. Clara counted that as a win.

They hiked over the hill and back down the other side, coming to the edge of a small town. It looked like a town, at least, with shops and plazas and the aroma of coffee. There weren’t many people, though. And it was so eerily quiet.

“Where is everybody?” Clara asked, slowing her pace as alarms started blaring in her head.

The Doctor just kept walking with his hands in his pockets.

“I told you. Most peaceful planet I know. Everyone here prides themselves on being quiet, calm...”

“Not your kind of place then?” She joked, nudging him with a shoulder.

“Not usually. But it is your kind of place.”

She nodded, thinking hard.

“Why are you being so nice to me?”

“Well, I showed up four months late. I thought it’s the least I could do.”

She narrowed her eyes. That didn’t sound like him. 

“You’re sure there’s not some secret conspiracy going on here or something? You’re not investigating strange lifesigns, or checking up on some big catastrophe that just so happens to be scheduled for today?”

The Doctor froze, his mouth falling agape.

“Do I do that?”

“Yes. Annoyingly often, actually.”

He blinked, as if it was brand new information to him.

“Have you ever tried meditation?” He asked suddenly.

Clara shut her eyes and counted to ten. The Doctor seemed to pick up on something, at least.

“I mean, not...I wasn’t suggesting anything, I was just…”

“What were you saying, Doctor?” Clara asked, forcing herself to behave. If she lost her cool, then she couldn’t reprimand him when he did. Then where would they be? Probably locked up somewhere, if he chose to call any alien leaders a ‘pudding brain’ anytime soon. Again.

“There’s a building here built solely for meditation. It’s famous in seven galaxies.”

Clara chuckled.

“I seriously can’t picture you meditating.”

The Doctor shrugged.

“I can try it, just this once.”

Clara stared at him for a moment again.

“Why do I feel like you’re not telling me everything?”

“Human skepticism? Come on, or they’ll be booked up.”

He rushed forward.

“Doctor, we have a…” 

Clara sighed. 

“Time machine,” she murmured under her breath.

Still hesitant, she followed after him with her arms crossed. If this turned into one of those run-for-your-life kind of trips…

Oh, who was she kidding. She loved the running.

Clara jogged to catch up with the Doctor, and entered the building with almost too much excitement. They were only meditating, after all. 

For now.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

“We’d like two meditation rooms, please.”

Clara’s eyebrow quirked at the Doctor’s use of ‘please’. Wherever he’d been in these past four months, it seemed to have done wonders on his social skills, at least. He’d barely been able to go to dinner without insulting someone the last time they’d gone out together. 

She smiled proudly.

“You’re very lucky,” the alien behind the counter said. “Two rooms just opened up a few minutes ago.”

Clara quirked her eyebrow at the Doctor again.

“What?” He asked, all nonchalant. “I had nothing to do with that.”

“Just like you had nothing to do with the TARDIS showing up four months late?”

He sighed.

“I did bring coffee. Expensive coffee. Not that I paid for it,” he murmured, taking the two passes from the front desk worker.

“Wait, you stole our coffee?”

He abruptly handed her one of the passes, looking over her shoulder.

“Oh look; they have an aquarium. Love a good aquarium.”

Clara rolled her eyes, but smiled despite herself. While the Doctor inspected the fish swimming around, she looked at her pass.

“I’m in room three. Where are you?”

“Room five.”

Her face scrunched up.

“Why do we need separate rooms?”

“I don’t know. Privacy?”

Clara joined him at the fish tank. 

“Is that normal?” she asked in a low voice. “For a meditation place?”

“It’s normal here, I suppose. I told you; they take this stuff very seriously.”

She opened her mouth to respond, either to bring up the nagging distrust in her brain or the rising hair on the back of her neck, but then one of the doors swooshed open. One of the aliens walked in, wearing robes that stretched to the floor. It’s eerily long fingers curled together in front of its abdomen as it walked.

“Miss Clara Oswald?” It said, in a strangely soporific voice.

“That’s me.” She started toward the alien, but turned to the Doctor one last time. “Meet back here in half an hour?”

He nodded. Just before she turned back to the alien, she caught a strange look in his eye; like he was questioning this place too. She was already halfway across the room, though, and her guide was opening the door to one of the lengthy hallways. 

Whatever was nagging them would have to wait until after meditation.

. . . . . . .

“So how’s this work?” Clara asked.

The meditation room was bare; a minimalistic look, she supposed. There was a simple gel mat in the center, and a few speakers in front of it. A couple of wall sconces acted as the only light in the room, making it even darker than the TARDIS’ current Console Room.

“Please, sit,” the alien said, gesturing toward the mat. It’s sweeping robes rippled like the sea as its arm moved. 

Clara obeyed, relaxing onto the gel mat with her shoes off. 

“Okay...now what?”

The alien pressed a button on the sound system. Gentle white-noise entered the space, running through Clara’s very bones. A voice came through the speakers, telling her to close her eyes; relax.

She suddenly couldn’t find a reason not to.

Waves of calm flooded through her system. Like a baby being rocked to sleep, Clara found herself forgetting where she was; ignoring the questions that usually raced through her head.

Work didn’t matter; the Doctor’s lateness didn’t matter. Not even the awkwardness of someone standing over her mattered.

All of that faded away. Her mind emptied, her eyes stayed closed. And, finally, the teacher/time traveler found some peace.

. . . . . . . . .

As soon as the Doctor entered the room, he groaned. It was practically empty; just a gel mat and a fake fireplace sitting in front of it. Typical boring.

“What’s the point in having a whole room to do nothing in? It’s almost as bad as a bedroom,” he said, to no one in particular except for his meditation guide.

“Please, sit,” the guide said, sweeping its arm toward the gel mat.

The Doctor scoffed, but obeyed.

“Might as well. There’s not much else I can do in here.”

As he complained, his eyes darted around the dimly lit room. One exit, the door. Two standard air vents that he could see. No windows. 

“Calm your mind,” the guide said, standing in front of him. 

“Meditation doesn’t really work for me,” he said with a chuckle. “Two thousand years of memories in here.”

The guide knelt in front of him. The Doctor’s eyebrows furrowed.

“What are you doing?”

“My name is Sarai,” the guide said, unfolding its long fingers. “I will be your meditation guide today.

“Good luck. I’ve never had much of an attention span.”

Sarai’s fingers rose up to his head, slowly. The Doctor found himself almost unwilling to move away. A strange magnetism emitted from Sarai’s fingers into his head.

“You’re a telepath, aren’t you?” Sarai asked, her voice soothing.

“Yes.” The Doctor’s eyes stared unblinkingly at the fingers beside his head. 

“Does that get difficult sometimes?” Sarai asked.

At the edges of his mind, the Doctor suddenly felt the beginnings of a panic rising. First pleads, and then shouts, echoing throughout the telepathic field. Something was wrong. Really, really wrong with a lot of people on this planet. People crying out. Crying.

“I need to…”

“Don’t worry,” Sarai’s siren voice cooed. Her fingers were resting on his temples now.

“Lie back.”

The Doctor found himself compelled to obey, eyes drifting shut against his will. When his body was lying flat against the gel mat, Sarai brought her fingers into contact with his temples.

Slowly, the screams from the telepathic field quieted, and then silenced.

And the Doctor’s eyes rolled back into his head as he entered a deep, calming sleep.

. . . . . . . . . . 

Clara opened her eyes and felt happier than she had in a long time. It was like one of those mornings when you wake up early enough to spend a moment appreciating the morning sunshine; the glow of a good rest. She smiled, looking around the dark room. Her guide was gone, but the meditation tape was still playing. White noise and a dim, empty room. Just her and her well rested self.

Her legs were starting to get sore from her position on the floor, so she stood and stretched. She wondered what time it was, and whether the Doctor was finished in his room yet. But she didn’t think enough to let it worry her; in fact, it felt like nothing could ever worry her again. She smiled even wider at the feeling. She was so used to getting agitated at the smallest things, especially around this busy time of year. To have it all just slide right out of her mind was wonderfully relaxing.

She clicked off the sound system; breathed in the silence that overtook the room. She was almost sad to leave this place, but she knew the entire planet was just as calm. It was much different than leaving her quiet home for the busy streets of London and the hallways of Coal Hill. More like leaving her room to make a warm mug of tea.

Her smile grew yet wider.

The door glided open as soon as she stepped near it, then wooshed shut when she reached the corridor beyond. Where had he said his room was? Five? Shouldn’t be too far, then, she figured. She started down the hallway, only guessing that she was walking the right way.

In the corner of her eye, she suddenly saw movement. It was so quick she thought at first that it was a mouse. But no; it was much too big. And instead of a squeak, it emitted a gasp. The calmness in her mind was still there, but so was her natural curiosity. 

She couldn’t NOT investigate, could she?

“Hello?” Clara asked, turning toward where the noise had come from. 

There was a stack of boxes against the wall, which shifted slightly.

“I promise I don’t bite.”

Clara made sure she looked harmless, which she supposed wasn’t difficult for a 5 foot 2 English teacher. The boxes shifted again, and then someone stood.

It was one of the aliens, but much smaller than the others. A child. 

“Please...can you help me?” the girl asked, shuffling from foot to foot. Her eyes were wide as they looked both ways down the hallway.

Clara approached her carefully, as if walking toward a frightened rabbit.

“Of course. What do you need help with?”

The girl licked her lips, and then gestured Clara to the boxes. Clara thought it over for a second,and then joined the girl behind the boxes. It was a small space, even for her, but she made do with an awkward crouch.

“Please,” the girl said again, her voice trembling. “My family came here last week and... I haven’t seen them since.”

Alarms blared in Clara’s mind. She knew something was going on! Then, to be fair, something always seemed to be going on when she travelled somewhere with the Doctor.

“Do you know what happened to them?”

The girl shook her head, shrugging her shoulders almost exaggeratedly. She was chewing her bottom lip again. 

Clara rested a hand on the girl’s arm.

“Hey, it’s alright. I’m Clara; what’s your name?”

“Aman.”

“I’m going to help you, Aman.”

They shared a smile, and Aman finally took a long, slow breath. Clara peeked over the boxes, checking the empty hallway.

“Do you know what might have happened to your parents? Did they know someone here?”

Aman shook her head, her eyes drifting to the left.

“Well…,” Aman said. “You can’t tell anyone this…”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Clara said earnestly.

“My family are telepaths.”

Aman looked defensively at Clara, as if testing her reaction. Clara merely smiled.

“My friend’s a telepath.”

Aman bit her lip again, looking at the floor.

“I’ve heard rumors. Telepaths...our friends, and some neighbors...they came here and, well...they didn’t come back.”

A weight dropped into Clara’s stomach. The smile faltered, giving way to a deeply set frown.

“Are people mean to telepaths here?”

Aman shrugged.

“Not usually. But just in the past month, I’ve seen fewer and fewer telepaths. And I don’t hear them as much anymore. There’s so much going wrong lately.”

Aman covered her face in her hands, crying softly. Clara touched her arm again, trying to quell her own worries.

“Hey; it’s gonna be alright. Why don’t we get you out of here, and I’ll investigate?”

Aman’s eyes widened. 

“But it’s not safe.”

Clara pointed to her own temple with a smile.

“It’s safer for me. Not a telepath. And if we can find my friend, he’ll sort it all right out.”

“Your telepathic friend?”

“Yep. He fixes stuff like this all the time.”

Aman looked doubtful, but she let Clara lead her to a standing position.

“Just stay close to me,” Clara said, taking the girl’s hand.

“Thank you, Clara.”

Clara smiled, despite the growing anxiety she had for herself and the Doctor, and everyone else on this planet, if she were honest.

“This is what I do, Aman.”


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

The trip out of the meditation building was as anticlimactic as Clara hoped it would be. But this meant that the nerves slowly building inside her had time to rise, without release. By the time they were outside again, following the rumble of the river, her head was darting toward every sound.

Carefully, she slid down the hillside and came to the water’s edge. A cave stood to the right, shallow but good enough cover.

“Okay, Aman. You just, er, stay here.”

Clara glanced around. The silence that permeated the air was now eerie; the peace almost unnerving.

“What are you going to do?” Aman asked with wide eyes.

“I...am gonna do a thing. Hopefully find the Doctor; figure out what’s going on...somehow.”

Aman looked less than impressed.

“I thought you said this is what you do?”

Clara shrugged.

“Well, yes; outside of teaching.”

Aman’s eyes widened.

“Don’t worry,” Clara assured, bringing some tree leaves to block the cave entrance. “I’ll take care of this. You just stay safe.”

“Clara?” Aman said quietly. “Thank you.”

“Hang tight.”

Clara gave her one last smile before dashing off. 

Back down the river she went, then up the hillside. She paused only when she reached the peak, then dashed down the other side. Those nerves were still rushing through her system, but she couldn’t dare to think about them right now. 

Somewhere, whether he knew it or not, the Doctor was in trouble. And Clara Oswald was going to save him.

. . . . . 

The plan that she brought into the meditation center lobby was not exactly foolproof. In fact, it involved much more dumb luck and stupid courage than schematics and tactics. But it was all she had.

So with a forced smile, she walked up to the counter and tried not to look afraid of the beings who may or may not be kidnapping or hurting telepaths.

Deep breath.

“Hiya!” She said. It sounded wrong, a bit too loud. Or maybe she just thought it sounded wrong?

“Can I be of service, ma’am?” 

“I was here earlier, actually. But you know, I think I need something deeper.”

“Deeper, Miss?”

She touched her head as if it were hurting, playing up the improvised role.

“Yeah. I just did the basic one. You know, breathing exercises. But I really think I want something a bit more intensive than that. Do you have anything?”

The clerk thought for a moment, and then nodded.

“Yes, I believe we do. I will go check our availabilities in the back.”

As soon as the clerk turned his back, Clara edged closer to the door. When he disappeared into the storage room behind the counter, she tore into the corridor she’d been in earlier.

“Room...what was it? Five. Room five; room…”

She chewed her lip as she reached the end of the hallway with no success. Carefully, she rounded the corner. Luckily it was as quiet here as anywhere on this planet.

The silence was starting to grate on her nerves, if she were honest. 

Her eye landed on a block number ‘5’ hanging above one of the doors, and she grinned madly. She started forward down the blank white hallway. But then the door opened, and she found herself darting behind one of those boxes again. 

One of the workers was exiting his room; unfortunately, sans Doctor. 

Clara calmed herself with a deep breath. Maybe he’d left already. The worker may just be cleaning up or prepping for the next customer. He was probably out there somewhere looking for her. She’d have to deal with his huffy mood and he’d have to deal with hers. It would be a normal, lovely day in the TARDIS.

But something still didn’t feel right. The alien that had left his room was disappearing the opposite way down the hallway, speaking in hushed, frantic tones into a communicator on its wrist. Clara wished she could hear him, but dreaded what conversation she might overhear.

When the alien was properly turned around the next corner, Clara broke out of her hiding spot and hurried to the door. It opened without a locking system, which made her feel a bit better.

The sight inside made her feel a lot less better.

“Doctor?”

He was on his back, with one of those gel mats below him. Anyone else, she’d assume they were sleeping. But even in a meditation center, the Doctor wouldn’t be able to sleep that soundly. Especially after hearing her voice.

She took his limp hand off of his chest and held it close to her chest. A double beat pulsed through his wrist, lessening just some of her panic. The soft breath entering and exiting his lungs helped, too. But he was so still; too still. 

“Doctor, wake up,” Clara whispered, afraid to speak too loudly. She suddenly felt like there were eyes watching her from all angles.

She traced one of her hands the back of his head, the other to his back, and pulled him into her lap. Her teeth were chewing her bottom lip again, eyes glancing to the door with every imagined sound that rang through her imagination.

She squeezed his hand and ran a hand up and down his back.

“Come on, Doctor. God knows what they’ll do when they come back.”

Softly, his hand finally squeezed hers. A slight twitch in his lip, and suddenly his eyes were struggling open. Clara steadied him, keeping a firm hold on his shoulders as he woke.

“Doctor?”

“Clara,” he breathed. 

“Do you remember what happened?”

He shook his head, blinking as he thought back.

“My mind’s a blank. Something’s wrong.”

Clara tugged on his arm and got him to a seated position.

“We better get out of here. Before…”

She broke off as the door swung open, bathing the room in light. Her hand held tighter onto the Doctor as three of the aliens walked into the room. One of them she recognized as his ‘meditation guide’, Sarai.

“Leave him alone,” she said, feigning confidence.

“Guards; collect him. And silence her.”

The Doctor tried to protest; tried to stand, even. But his muscles and his brain were too sluggish. He barely ground out a muttered “no!”; barely managed to get his feet beneath him before the guards were flanking them on all sides.

Clara felt something prick her neck and suddenly her vision was going hazy. 

“Doctor,” she breathed. 

He caught her as she fell asleep, only to be forced to let her go as the guards siezed him.

“You know where to take him,” Sarai said with ice in her voice.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been so long since an update! The holidays were busier than I thought they'd be. I hope you enjoy this chapter! Please leave a comment if you enjoyed!

Chapter Four

The room that Clara woke up in was designed to calm her. In these circumstances, however, it had the opposite effect.

The soft rain whispering through the sound system was ominous, rather than peaceful. And the sofa she was laid on felt uncomfortable and strange. Something about the situation reminded her of being young, when she’d fall asleep and someone would carry to bed so that she woke up in a different place than she fell asleep.

Then again, this situation was a far, far cry from those comforts of childhood. And the Doctor was nowhere to be found.

“Doctor!” Clara shouted into the empty air. “Someone!”

She waited for a moment, getting shakily to her feet. How long had she been asleep? What were they going to do to her? Why wasn’t she tied up?

“Let me out of here!” She shouted, to no one in particular except perhaps the door. 

Her shouts did nothing. The rain kept up its pitter-patter; the room stayed absolutely, eerily still.

And nobody came to lessen the anxieties rushing through her veins.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

The room that the Doctor woke up in was rather less calming. White on white on white blinded him as soon as he dared open his tired eyes. The walls; the floor; the lights. All was too bright, too sterile. 

Around him, a few voices spoke in muffled tones. Everything seemed to be hiding behind a thick layer of cotton, making it impossible to get his bearings correctly.

When his eyes finally adjusted, he found Sarai standing over him, speaking to another one of her kind. They both looked genuinely worried, like doctors fussing over a sickly patient.

The Doctor swallowed hard as he realized that he, in this case was the patient.

He tried to lift his arm, but found himself unable to move more than a twitch of muscle. The sedative, most likely, still doing its job. He gave up after two tries and focused instead on his senses.

He lay against a firm, cold surface. Metal, no doubt. Like an operating table. He gulped again and forced down his fear. No use getting worked up.

In the back of his mind, the disturbances in the telepathic were ringing out. The sedative and whatever Sarai had done to him earlier had helped quiet the sounds of screams and fear. But now that he was more aware, he found those sounds growing louder and louder.

“He will not be relaxed,” Sarai said. She sounded more an anxious than the Doctor would have thought possible.

Her companion, taller and more stiff than her, approached the Doctor. Cold hands suddenly touched the Doctor’s temples, and the sounds sharpened, until it almost hurt. Screams of pain and misery echoing through the telepathic field.

The alien removed his hands abruptly, but it hardly calmed the frightened voices still clanging around in the Doctor’s head.

“I suggest we use the Mind Cleanser,” the alien said.

The Doctor and Sarai both shivered.

“Do you really think that’s necessary?” Sarai asked, wringing her hands.

Her friend nodded solemnly.

“I do. That should clear this whole matter up; and then we can let him go.”

The Doctor gulped, trying to move again. But suddenly he was feeling very sleepy again. Eyes closing and muscles still hardly moving, the Doctor silently wondered what on earth the ‘Mind Cleanser’ could be.

. . . . . . . 

Clara was almost bored, scared as she was, by the time anyone entered her room. When they did, it was a woman who was not dressed in the stiff uniform of the guards. In fact, this alien seemed rather flustered. Perhaps even afraid.

Even so, Clara kept her guard up. There was no telling who was friend or foe in this complicated alien world.

“Where is my friend?” She demanded in the harshest tone she could muster.

The alien wrung her hands, eyes darting to the closed door.

“I don’t know,” the alien said under her breath. Then, suddenly, she sat beside Clara on the sofa.

“Who are you?” Clara asked, losing some of the roughness in her voice.

“My name is Aman. I...I think there are bad things happening here.”

“You aren’t one of the guards?”

Aman looked at her strangely.

“We don’t have guards here, ma’am. I am a Meditation Guide. This planet is peaceful. Especially our city.”

Clara clicked her tongue.

“Peaceful,” she said sarcastically. “My friend got knocked out by one of you lot. And then they dragged him off to god-knows-where.”

Aman looked genuinely disturbed by this information.

“There is something happening here lately. Something regarding telepaths. I don’t know what it is.”

Clara chewed her bottom lip for a moment.

“What can we do about it?”

Aman looked at the floor for a moment, and then perked up.

“The only person I know that can help us is...oh, it’s a silly idea.”

“Who?”

Aman smiled timidly, eyes aglow with the excitement of doing the impossible.

“The Leader, Aaru.”

Clara stood and went to the door.

“Okay then. Where can we find him?”

Aman’s face fell.

“We can’t...he’s Aaru! He visits with world leaders; not normal people.”

Clara shrugged with a cocky smile.

“World leaders are just people with fancy titles. C’mon; I might need your help getting out of here.”

Aman still seemed absolutely flabbergasted, but she helped Clara get the door open and led the way out into the hallway.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay guys, I'm sorry for the delay. Really have no excuse other than writer's block and laziness! I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Chapter Five

The Doctor woke to darkness. 

He was standing now, he realized. But his muscles were even more stiff, if that were possible. When he tried to move them, they were restrained by biting metal. 

Cuffs. There were more around his ankles, holding him in an awkward standing position with his back unnaturally straitened against the wall. What wall it was, he couldn’t know. The darkness was hardly receding, even as his eyes became adjusted to it.

The sound of clanking metal, a door shutting hard, echoed through the room. By the vibrations, it seemed like he was in a cell of some type. Maybe in a basement? His brain was still sluggish from whatever drugs they’d been feeding into his system.

If they would only let him speak to them, he was sure they could work out some kind of agreement. But, like nearly every other civilization he’d come to meet in his travels, they seemed destined to let their fears outweigh their sense.

“Is someone there?” He asked into the darkness.

If he squinted hard enough, he could see movement. If he thought too hard, it looked like the movement was coming toward him. He cast off that thought, if only to keep himself from being afraid. 

“Are you the mysterious ‘Mind Cleanser’ I’ve been hearing so much about?”

The movement paused for a moment. Then continued even faster. The Doctor struggled against his bindings, but they held him fast. 

A wrought iron gate swung open. Or, at least, it sounded like a wrought iron gate. Creaking and slow and sounding like a horror-movie effect. The Doctor took a deep breath. Mustn’t freak out. Must be calm and collected. Cool-headed.

The creature walked through the gate and somehow was caught in the moonlight. It was about three heads above him. And way, way too thin to be human. Not to thin to be terrifying, though. In fact, the thinness and the long arms dangling by its side actually did very little to calm the Doctor.

He licked his lips, blinking rapidly as if to wake up from some horrible nightmare. Then he took another deep breath; thought of Clara. If he was ever going to see her again, he had to remain calm. He had to be the hero that Clara would be. 

She wouldn’t be afraid. Or she would be, but she certainly wouldn’t show it. She would be the boss. She would control the room.

“Right. Okay. Hello, Mind Cleanser. I’m the Doctor. I hope they’ve been giving you better treatment than me. As soon as I get out of here, I’ll write them a review. One star. They only get the one because the meditation facility was pretty decent, until the, you know, kidnapping and whatnot.”

The Doctor lost his breath as the creatures nail ran along his cheek. It was cold and it was creepy and he was scared and he wanted Clara.

“Guards!” He shouted, his voice high pitched and broken.

Sure, he was the Doctor and maybe once he’d scared Daleks with just the mention of his name. But right now, in this dark basement with this creature breathing right beside his neck, he was just an idiot time traveller. A properly terrified idiot time traveller, who should never have come here.

“Okay. Okay, big man. Since I assume your about to do something very nasty and probably delete all of my memories or turn my brain to soup...I have one request.”

The creature pause for a moment, lifting its nails off of the Doctor’s cheek.

“What is your request?” The creature rasped. 

“I want to tell you a story.”

. . . . . . . . . .

“Clara, are you sure about this?”

Aman rubbed her hands together as Clara gave her a mad smile. They’d arrived at Aaru’s palace much faster than either had thought they would; too fast even to make a plan or write a speech. 

“You sound like my mate Nina,” Clara murmured, picking at the lock of the Palace Kitchen. “We broke into the library during the school dance once and she was terrified the whole time.”

Her bobby pin clicked into place and suddenly she was rushing through the open door. She gave Aman that wild look in her eye on more time.

“Coming?”

Aman ran in with her, dashing behind a stack of potatoes as soon as they were inside.

“Why were you breaking into the library during the school dance?”

“We were squabbling about something from Pride and Prejudice. Never did find out the answer. We got caught snogging by the caretaker.”

Aman let herself smile for a moment, then shook her head.

“Okay, but do you actually know what you’re doing here? Breaking into palaces and things?”

Clara shrugged.

“The Doctor and I do this all the time. Intergalactic nosy parkers.”

Aman smiled again. Until one of the potato sacks moved and they found themselves face to face with the Palace chef.

“What are you two doing here?”

Aman squeaked with surprise, but Clara merely smiled wider.

“So sorry to bother you; we’re visiting Aaru and we got a bit lost. And hungry. Do you happen to have apples?”

“Apples?” The chef raised an eyebrow. “Er, we have Papples, miss.”

“What’s a Papple?”

Aman and the chef looked at her like she had three heads.

“It’s something you eat.” Aman said slowly. “Green, plant-like...you’ve never had a Papple?”

“Oh! Papple, of course. Yes, I love Papples. Er, can you lead us to Aaru now?”

The chef raised two eyebrows now.

“I’m not allowed in the presence of His Grace. But follow me to the stairs. Guests of Aaru shouldn’t even be down here with us mere cooks.”

Clara gave Aman a look, which the younger woman replied with a fearful grimace. When they were at the top of the steps, Aman grabbed her wrist tightly.

“Wait; Clara. Are you sure about this?”

“They have my friend,” Clara said, with steel in her voice. “And I’m going to do everything I can to get him back.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...oops. I'm sorry this has taken AGES. You know when you put something on hold for a day and forget about it and suddenly it's been a month? Yeah...oops. Anyway! Here we are at another chapter! I hope you enjoy and will put up with my random posting habits for another few chapters. Thanks for reading!

Chapter Six

Usually, Clara felt a twinge of fear when wandering around corridors she knew were off limits. Sure, the Doctor would swagger around like he owned the place. But she was the sensible one. If the place was packed with guards, she’d hide away until all of them were past. If it were empty, she’d still hide. Strange, important places were never left unguarded without reason. 

But today was different. As she and Aman made their way through the gilded halls of the Palace upstairs, she did not hesitate. She did not stammer in her step, nor wait for all sounds of footsteps to be silenced. She walked quickly, with purpose, eyes hardly blinking. 

Aman, of course, was terrified of this, and questioning what she had gotten herself into. When Clara walked straight through an intersection of corridors, Aman held back, looking both ways before crossing. 

She had to admit, though, Clara had a kind of steely presence to her, in this moment, that was rather impressive. She seemed an easy match for the Leader. Maybe even slightly superior.

“Okay, Aman. This way.”

The younger girl took a deep breath, then followed Clara through the shadows toward the big--no, enormous--doors of what must have been the Great Hall. The Throne Room. 

The place where the most powerful and important person she could think of sat and surveyed his kingdom. 

“Are we just going to walk in there?” Aman asked, grabbing Clara’s sleeve.

Clara shrugged. Even smiled.

“Why not? It’s easy if you know how to do it.”

Suddenly Clara’s hand disappeared into her jacket and she pulled out a...camera. A bright pink instant camera. 

Aman looked at her as if she’d gone mad.

“Where did you find an ancient relic, and why on Linistri 5 are you holding it?”

Clara held the camera up and snapped a picture of Aman.

“We are tourists. Visiting the Temple of the Great Leader while we’re on holiday. You have holidays here, don’t you?”

Aman was lost for words. She hadn’t found them yet when Clara strolled into the light, totally in view of the door guards. 

For some reason, they seemed just as lost for words as Aman.

Clara swaggered toward them without a glance, her eyes drifting up to the ceiling and to the art on the walls. Every now and then she’d snap a picture, shake the film that came out, and stuff it in her pocket.

“Some people really know how to live, don’t they Aman?” 

Aman squeaked in anxiety, but nodded to go along with the act. Clara snapped a picture of one of the guards, and finally their spell seemed to break.

“What are you doing here?” The guard on the left said sternly. 

Aman nearly fainted. But Clara merely snapped another picture of a nearby vase and smiled.

“Visiting the Palace. Broke away from our tour guide, I’m afraid.”

The guard stammered for a moment.

“There are no tours being offered at this time. Never when the royal family is present.”

The guards face fell.

“Ah, is he here then. The Great Leader?” Clara asked smugly. “Where is he? In there?”

She asked it in jest, but the guard’s face turned violet. 

“Would he mind if I snapped his picture real quick?”

The guard on the right now found his voice.

“Yes, he would certainly mind. Please exit the premises, miss, or I will have to…”

“What is that commotion?” A booming voice echoed through the door. The guards glared at Clara like she was the cause of their every woe, and went back to their stiff positions by the door. 

Clara took Aman’s shaking hand in her own steady one.

“I came for a visit. Apparently I shouldn’t be here.”

“Who are you?” The voice asked.

“Just a traveller.”

There was silence for a moment. 

“Let me see this traveller.”

The guards’ jaws dropped, but they didn’t hesitate in following the order. The doors opened for Clara and Aman, and suddenly they were in the Throne Room.

. . . . . . . . . 

“So then I said to Susan: ‘my dear, I really don’t think you want to live on Earth. It’s a level five planet, barely functioning. But she was insistent. Wanted to see how humans live.”

The Doctor struggled against his bonds again, just to try. He really hoped Clara would be here soon. This story could go for a long, long time. By the time it was over, she’d be close to retirement. Or older.

He took a deep breath, as the Mind Cleanser touched its nail to his temple again.

“A-and there, she enrolled in a school,” the Doctor continued. “Coal Hill. Where she had two excellent teachers; Ian and Barbara.”

. . . . . . . .

The Great Leader did not look as Clara had expected. He did not wear a crown. He didn’t have a large, looming figure nor fierce eyes. In fact, he looked a bit like a kindly old man she used to live next to. He always got a piece of her mum’s souffles, when they had extras.

“Who are you?” He asked, voice soft and genuinely curious.

“My name’s Clara. This is Aman.”

The Leader’s eyes grew wider.

“Aman?” He said quietly. Then took a breath. “I think I know why you are both here.”

“You do?” Clara asked.

The Leader pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I don’t have all of the answers.”

Clara raised an eyebrow.

“Are...you talking about what we’re talking about? The telepaths?”

The Leader paused for a second, then nodded.

“We do not know why they are so disturbed of late. Do you have the gifts, my child?”

Aman bit her lip, but shook her head.

“Why would she?” Clara asked.

Aman turned to her.

“The name Aman is chosen only by telepaths. My parents…” She broke off, a distant look in her eye. “I didn’t inherit the gift.”

“It is not a gift these days,” the Leader said. “It is a curse. I am sorry for your family.”

“Can’t you help?” Aman asked, tears forming in her eyes.

“I have tried. This is what we are doing at the Mediation facility. Helping telepaths to cope with their pain.”

Clara clicked her tongue. 

“‘Help’? They dragged my friend off to God-knows-where and knocked me unconscious. Doesn’t sound very generous to me.”

The Leader’s face fell. His brows drew together.

“What do you speak of?” He asked.

“The Meditation Facility?” Clara asked with a high voice. “I don’t even know if he’s still alive right now. They carted him off somewhere.”

She blinked and discovered she was crying. The Leader stood from his humble throne and walked shakily toward them.

“That was not the plan,” he said sternly. “That was not...guards!”

The guards rushed in brandishing their weapons, about ready to attack Clara and Aman. But the Leader held up his hands and motioned for them to calm.

“I must go to the Meditation Facility at once. Ready my transport. And take these two as well. They are special guests, and should be treated as so.”

The guards looked leery at that, but again followed orders without hesitation. Clara was glad that something was being done, finally. And at how quickly they’d gotten the Leader’s help.

But the seed of dread was started to grow. 

“Doctor…” she whispered. “Just hang on.”


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

They got to the Meditation facility quickly, but to Clara the journey felt impossibly long. For the first half of the trip, she wrung her sweaty hands together and tried to focus on the town sweeping by out the window. When that didn’t work, she felt Aman take hold of her fingers.

“It’ll be alright, Clara.”

The meditation guide’s words were soothing, Clara had to admit. The girl was gifted in the practice of calming people down. But it wasn’t enough to keep her thoughts occupied for long.

Before they’d gotten down another city block, Clara’s teeth were biting hard on her bottom lip.

Aaru sat across from the women, just beside his highest level security guard. The four sat in almost complete silence as the carriage trudged along at breakneck speed.

As they finally, finally pulled to a stop, Clara pushed open the door. Her three companions began to worry at her hastiness, but she turned a dark eye toward them.

“They’ve got my friend.”

Aaru nodded solemnly.

“I am sorry about all of this. Had I known…”

“I know,” Clara said earnestly, trying a smile. “You’re a good man.”

Aaru seemed inspired by that, hopping out of the carriage ahead of his guard and stomping toward the Meditation Facility. A small, bespectacled clerk exiting the building jumped five feet back as he noticed their strange crew.

“Great Leader! Aaru! What brings you…?”

“What is happening at the Meditation Facility?” Aaru asked, with no play in his voice.

The clerk faltered.

“I don’t understand…”

“Do not lie to me.” His voice was steel; so much different than the quiet, reserved old man Clara had met in the Throne Room. “I care more about the safety of my people than maintaining this falsified ‘peace’. What is happening to the Telepaths at this facility?”

The clerk looked about ready to faint. Luckily, a Meditation Guide exited the door next. She didn’t jump at the sight of her leader, but her lips set into a deep frown.

“Well?” Aaru asked. “Who is going to tell me the truth? What is happening here?”

The Meditation Guide blinked a few times, looking to the ground.

“It’s the telepathic field, sir. Everyone who can see into it is having horrible nightmares. They won’t be calmed. And so we’ve been trying new techniques…”

“What kind of new techniques?” Aaru asked, approaching her slowly.

“W-we have a creature. It feeds on memories; mostly bad ones. It’s harmless, really…”

“Where are you keeping it?” Clara asked suddenly.

“In...in the basement of the Facility. By the cel...by the, er, rooms we have reserved for the telepaths.”

Clara gave her one last disgusted look, and then broke off into the building. Her head was running faster than her sprinting feet, which carried her down the steps two at a time. She hadn’t even noticed if there was anyone in the lobby. She hadn’t even really noticed the staircase until she found herself halfway down.

It was dark and creepy and cold down here; lamps half-lit and flickering. She felt anger again; a deep anger that she couldn’t name. The Doctor was down here. Along with so many other people. And somehow this was merciful toward them? Because they were having some bad dreams?

Clara shoved the next door open so hard it crashed against the wall. She was already running down the hallway when she heard the slamming noise.

She passed a few rooms with blank doors; not even a slot to see out of. Cells like the one she’d been locked in. 

And then she found the last cell. This one had a bit of a window, though it was barred with iron or some other strong kind of metal. But the lights were so dim that you couldn’t see inside anyway.

Clara pushed the door open, hating the creaking, metallic screech that echoed into the dank space.

There was a draft. And another gate; wrought iron. Light shined in from a window to the right, putting a spotlight on…

“Doctor!” Clara whispered to herself.

He was standing, speaking softly. To whom, Clara didn’t know...until she looked down. Just to her right side, there lay a strange, wiry creature in the fetal position, sleeping soundly. She turned back to the Doctor with wide eyes. He was still monologuing.

“And then I met this chap, Jamie. He was from Scotland and he always wore a kilt; even when we met the Ice Warriors. He wasn’t very happy about that.”

Clara silently wondered how long he’d been talking. His voice sounded hoarse, his eyes glued to the creature other than the spare glances he risked in her direction.

She got to work undoing his bindings, keeping as quiet as she could with a bobby pin and clanking metal to work with. Soon his hands were freed, and he massaged his wrists as he kept talking.

Then his legs were freed.

He thanked Clara with a look and took a step forward. His leg shook as his foot hit the floor, wobbled; then he started crashing toward the floor. Clara caught him just before he could land on the pile of noisy metal chains. He was rather heavy, and the angle awkward, but she somehow maneuvered him back up to a standing position.

“I’ve got you,” she whispered.

He held onto her and kept talking even as they crept carefully away from the creature. At the gate, they paused, and Clara slowly locked the iron together. A painful clang rang through the cell, but she simply turned herself and the Doctor around and rushed them into the corridor outside.

As soon as they were out, Clara shut the door and locked it with another stealthily placed bobby pin. Then she turned to the Doctor and grabbed him around the shoulders, burying her face in his chest.

“I’ve got you. I’ve got you,” she murmured, as they dropped shakily to the floor.

She found him shaking in her grasp and so held him tighter, stroking his hair. 

“I’m here; I’ve got you.”

“I knew you’d come,” he said, voice still weak.

“Always.”


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

Clara sat cuddled under a blanket on her sofa, hot cocoa warming her hands and woollen socks cradling her feet. The Doctor hadn’t allowed himself quite as much, sitting stiffly on the other side of the sofa, but he did have a cup of hot cocoa with some cinnamon sprinkled in. Clara watched him for a minute, with special attention on his weary gaze. He hadn’t said much since they’d left the basement of that place. 

That worried her even more than his still-shaking hands.

“Aaru says he’s going to keep a closer eye on his kingdom now,” Clara said lightly.

The Doctor gave her an empty stare.

“Aaru is the leader of the city we were in. I marched into his throne room earlier today.”

The Doctor smiled softly at that.

“You’re always so brave,” he said, contemplative. He took a sip of his hot cocoa and then went back to staring at the Christmas tree in the corner of the room.

“Doctor?” Clara set her cup down and shuffled closer to him. “Are you okay?”

“Course.”

She bit her bottom lip to keep from calling him a liar. Best to go about this gently.

“Do you want to talk about it?” She said quietly.

His head whipped toward her, owl eyes glow. Then he relaxed and turned away.

“I...didn’t like that place,” he said. “It felt like a hospital. With a monster downstairs.”

“A doctor who doesn’t like hospitals,” Clara joked. “Is your middle name ‘Contradiction’?”

“No, it’s Jeff.”

They shared a smile. Then, Clara shifted closer and rested her head on his shoulder. He responded by leaned his head on hers.

“Let’s stay together next time, okay?” Clara asked. 

“Got it, boss.”

She kissed his cheek and then nustled back to his shoulder.

“Happy Christmas, Doctor.”

She felt him shift beneath her, suddenly uncomfortable.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

“For what?”

“Putting you in danger. Again. You would’ve been much happier to just stay home.”

Clara sat up, so that he could see her face.

“Doctor, I’m never happier than when I’m with you.” Her cheeks blushed red, but they both ignored it. “And I’m glad I was there, so that I could help you.”

“You shouldn’t have to rescue me.”

“But I always will,” she said sternly. “Always; no matter where your silly box takes you.”

He stared into her eyes.

“I don’t doubt it. But I do dread it.”

She blinked as his words set in. He sighed and leaned back into the sofa. She rested against his shoulder again, placing a hand over his chest.

“I just want you to be safe,” he said. Clara could feel the tension in his voice.

“That’s all I want for you too, Doctor.” She massaged his chest for a moment and nestled in closer. 

“Clara?”

“Yes Doctor?”

He kissed the top of her head.

“Thank you.”

She patted his chest with her hand again.

“Anytime you need me, you just call.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Don't hesitate to comment your thoughts so far. It's always inspirational to hear back from you guys!


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